


Dressed For Comfort

by solversonlou



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Callum "Halfway" Highway, Boys in Skirts, Clothing Kink, M/M, Top Ben Mitchell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29961267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solversonlou/pseuds/solversonlou
Summary: It starts off as a joke, Callum wearing a dress as a forfeit, but then he realises how comfortable it is and how good it looks on him. But what would people say about a bloke like him wearing something outside of the norm? And more importantly, how would his fiancé feel?
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	Dressed For Comfort

It starts off as a joke at first, but Callum isn't really sure what the punchline is.

“Oi, oi, bruv!” Stuart chuckles, clapping a hand on his brother’s back. “Bit short for a wedding dress, innit?”

A flood of shame washes over Callum, nervous laughter bubbling in his chest as he stands in the middle of The Vic wearing what can only be called a French Maid's outfit.

He’d lost a game of darts and his punishment was to wear an item of clothing of Rainie’s choice. She’d chosen something from the back of her wardrobe from her partying days.

Callum hadn’t expected the feeling he got when he slipped it on in the Vic toilets.

Sure, he was still wearing his jeans, which Rainie had booed at and deemed cheating, but it felt... nice. Comfortable. And maybe it was because he was partially intoxicated, but the rush of confidence he got looking at his reflection was exhilarating.

“Always thought Ben was more of the woman in that relationship,” Karen says where she’s sat at the bar, loud enough for Callum to hear a snippet of.

Thankfully, Bernadette counteracts her mother with a frown, “They're both blokes, that's the point."

“Yeah, I know that, Bern,” Karen chuckles, shaking her head. “I just meant ‘cause Ben’s shorter. Plus, what's manlier than being a copper?"

The mention of Ben’s name sends another wave of shame through Callum. Not at Ben himself, but the thought of how he’d respond to this. Would he laugh like everyone else and take the mick?

Callum knows Ben isn’t exactly happy whenever Lexi tries to put make-up on him, but Ben also isn’t a stranger to liking things outside the norm of masculinity.

The amount of Broadway numbers he knows and Hannah Montana films he unabashedly enjoys are testament to that.

Callum takes the skirt off before he goes home. He’s seen how the drag queens are treated outside The Albert by random drunk, straight blokes passing by. He doesn’t need the hassle.

Plus he won’t have to find out how Ben feels about it. It’s better not to know, probably. Things are good between them. Don’t need anything making it weird.

x

Callum thinks that maybe he’s overcomplicating the whole thing.

Sure, at work he’d get taken the piss out of. He hears the odd comments as it is, the casual homophobia from his colleagues. Callum has to beat around the bush about who he’s dating, primarily because it’s a Mitchell, but the fact he's a bloke doesn't help.[

On the square, though, he isn’t sure many people would care, but they’d probably find it funny. There’s something hilarious to people about blokes wearing dresses.

Callum knows he used to laugh at Little Britain when he was young. Used to find the men pretending to be women utterly hilarious. A good dose of misogyny and transphobia he realises, looking back on it.

It’s good he’s grown up now, discovered who he is. He’s proud. It took him twenty odd years ]to get there, but he’s happy. He knows who he is. He’s a gay man. He’s absolutely confident in that fact.

He knows some trans people from The Albert, and he knows he doesn’t want to be a woman or anything like that.

He simply likes wearing something traditionally associated with women. And what’s wrong with that? Why do people ascribe gender to something as silly as clothes?

He recalls Mick wearing Linda’s dressing gown and dressing up as Madonna, and Mick’s one of the strongest men he’s ever met. Maybe he should ask him what he thinks, he’s like a dad to him, after all, but he seems to have a lot going on with Frankie.

There’s Whit. Sweet, understanding Whit, who forgave him despite everything, who’s one of his closest friends. But she’s always working or busy with Kush or Dotty or Gray and the kids.

It’s a weird thing to ask someone anyway. It ain’t like Lola would ask him his opinion on her wearing trousers.

x

He’s browsing online for some new jeans. He’s always liked tighter jeans, and he never seemed to get much flack for it. They’re stylish, really. Acceptable now for blokes to wear. He doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal if he looks at the skirts and the dresses as well.

Sure, none of the models wearing them are blokes who are over six foot, but he gets a rough idea.

He likes the ones that stop just above the knee, or shorter. He thinks he’d look like a cult member.

It’s like a kilt, really. Sure, people crack jokes about kilts, but they’re mostly accepted, right? Nobody thinks burly Scottish men in kilts are lesser, do they?

Callum gets somewhat sidetracked by the thought of burly blokes for a moment, and doesn’t hear the door opening at first.

“You alright, babe?” Ben’s voice says from the kitchen door as he drops his keys on the side.

Callum closes the lid of his laptop immediately, and Ben notices, throwing up his eyebrows.

“You found my Cockyboys login?” Ben chuckles, a wicked glint in his eye. He makes his way to Callum and presses a kiss to the top of his head as Callum blinks at him, his reaction delayed a little, flustered.

“What?” he pulls a confused face as Ben takes a seat opposite him st the table. “What’s— Oh, no! It’s just work stuff. Thought I'd save you the gorey crime scene photos."

“Oh, you wanna show Lola them,” Ben says, taking one half of the sandwich Callum had been eating off his plate. “What is it with straight women and being obsessed with serial killers? Like them birds who fancy Ted Bundy...”

The irony is not lost on Callum, whose brows knit together as he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Oi, I know what you’re thinking, and I ain’t a serial killer, so you don’t count,” Ben rationalises, gesturing with his sandwich. “You’re just a copper in love with a one time manslaughterer and petty criminal. Different kettle of fish.”

“Whatever you say,” Callum chuckles. “Though I guess it’s a joke on me whatever way you look at it.”

“Oi, I am a catch,” Ben says, wiping the crumbs off his chest. 

Callum's chest blooms with warmth.

x

“Lol, you been buying stuff online again?” Ben yells out, picking the wrapped parcel off the doorstep. He waves to the socially distanced Royal Mail driver in thanks before shutting the front door behind him and tossing the parcel to the side.

“What?” Lola inquires, coming into the hallway with Lexie in tow. “Not recently.”

“Well, it ain’t mine and I have to show dad how to order stuff offline...” Ben’s confused face lights up suddenly, a grin forming. “Must be an engagement present from Cal."

“Or it's summat for himself,” Lexi reasons, deadpan, clearly unhappy about going to school.

“Oi, spoilsport,” Ben tuts, placing his hands on Lexi’s face as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Who poisoned your cornflakes?”

“Come on, Lex,” Lola says, gesturing for them to get a move on. “School.”

Lexi sighs and follows her mother out the door, waves goodbye to Ben who blows her a kiss as she leaves.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs alerts Ben’s attention, and he grins at the man standing there as he spins around, hand on the bannister, practically cornering Callum, “Summat just came in the post.”

Callum, stopping on the stairs, blinks at Ben in his half awake state, confused. Realisation dawns on him suddenly, and a wave of heat washes over him as he blurts out, “You didn’t open it, did you?”

Ben’s eyes light up at the words, grin widening as he leans against the bannister, “So it is a present?"

Callum blinks, wide eyed for a moment as he considers the suggestion. He supposes it could be a present for Ben. The thought of Ben seeing him in it sends a wave of heat through him, even in his still half asleep state.

"No," is what Callum decides on as a response, which he quickly changes when he sees how Ben's face drops. "Well, maybe! I don't wanna ruin it, do I?"

Ben beams, nose scrunching as he hops up on the stairs and envelopes Callum in a hug, pressing a kiss to his neck, "God, I love ya."

Callum laughs, arms wrapping around Ben's shoulders, steadying them both. He exhales, chin tucked over Ben's shoulder. He can see the parcel, sitting on the sideboard, and suddenly, the nervousness is back. 

God, he hopes Ben won't judge him.

x

The first time he tries it on, he's alone, standing in front of the slightly bent floor length mirror Ben has against his wall. (They've been slowly decorating the room, and Ben's old mirror that he's taken from his old flat with Jay, to Ian's house, then to the Mitchell house, hadn't been put on the scrap heap just yet.)

He's not wearing jeans this time, his bare legs on display, the skirt a little bit shorter than he'd expected it to be. He'd checked the height measurements, but he guesses that's the perils of buying online. 

Regardless, it looks... good? 

He doesn't feel embarrassed as he moves, watching the way the pleats sit and swish as he turns on his feet. A flood of confidence washes over him, like when he'd gotten a haircut after having that bowlcut for so long, or when he finds a good pair of jeans that don't pinch him in places he'd rather not be pinched.

A small smile darts across Callum's lips, fingers straightening out the waistband that sits on his waist. He'd gone for something high waisted, figured that's what was in fashion. He likes it. It feels nice, the pleated, dark blue material. 

It'd been described as a skater skirt online. 

He won't be doing any skating in it, but it's nice to know he could run in it if he needed to. 

He isn't exactly sure what to wear with it. He's got a t-shirt on, tucked under the waistband. He'd looked up androgynous men's fashion online and gotten mostly punk looks came up, or full on drag and fishnet stockings and heels. He isn't opposed to the stockings, he supposes, but he doesn't quite fancy kitten heels.

He decides to go with a pair of knee high, thin, black socks. He wears them when he runs sometimes and it's colder out, under his shorts and runner's leggings. The leggings probably wouldn't look right, his feet just sticking out of them. He doesn't know what shoes to wear, but he never wears shoes upstairs anyway, unlike Ben, who trapezes mud on the carpet.

The thought of Ben makes him stop for a moment, nerves returning. What would he think if he just walked in on him like this? It's an uneasy thought, but Callum could see him taking it as a joke. Ben's always cracking jokes and making snarky comments. 

He has no doubt in his mind that Ben adores him, but sometimes he cracks jokes, even about his loved ones, without thinking at times. (He's had plenty of warnings from Kathy whenever he makes a joke about her age or from Phil when he goes off on one about his choice of women.)

Inhaling, Callum stares at his reflection for a long moment, trying to subside his fear. He exhales, drags his gaze down the mirror. He looks fantastic. He feels good. Ben will understand. Hell, maybe he'll like it.

x

"You gonna give me my present now?" Ben grins, a hopeful glint in his eye as he leans across the sofa. 

They have the house to themselves. Phil is staying in a hotel overnight across London, and Lola is over Isaac's, and Lexi is at a sleepover with Billy's kids. There's no reason why Ben wouldn't assume tonight would be the night he finally receives the present he'd been looking forward to all week.

Callum hadn't forgotten that Ben had assumed the parcel was for him. He'd been dropping enough hints during the week, and all of them had been suggestive. Ranging from the suggestion of blindfolds, to wrist ties, to Ben's half joking, half serious suggestion of a sex swing, he'd been way off the mark. 

Plus, they'd done most of those things before, minus the swing. Ben had indulged heavily in the whole getting arrested by his copper roleplay, and Callum, despite wanting to take his job seriously, and not exactly being the forceful type, had played along, exceedingly well.

Ben was off the mark with every suggestion, aside from when he'd wondered if it could be underwear. He knows it's fabric, could feel it when he touched it. Callum had made a comment once about Ben's boxers being too big for him, and Ben had cheekily scolded him for wanting to see him in something tighter, to which Callum had blushed and denied the accusation. 

Maybe he thinks Callum's brought him some fancy boxer-briefs, like the ones David Beckham had been wearing in a magazine advert that Ben had caught Callum looking at for far too long.

Swallowing around the nervous lump in his throat, Callum decides that it's probably now or never. He turns to Ben, brow furrowed, voice serious, "Alright, but you've gotta be nice if you don't like it."

Ben's head tilts, confused. He brushes the hair at Callum's temple with his knuckles before sliding a hand down the back of his neck and resting it there, a small smile on his lips, "Well, I can't make any promises, babe..."

"No," Callum says, shaking his head as he pulls away on the sofa. Lowering his head, he lets out a breath as he looks down at the floor. "I knew this wouldn't work."

"Hey," Ben's joking demeanor falls away as he shifts closer, taking one of Callum's hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "Hey, it's alright. I was just taking the mick."

"That's the point," Callum sighs, lifting his head to look at Ben. His gaze drops to their hands, a slight reassurance, but he needs to convey how he feels. He meets Ben's soft, concerned eyes. "You have to promise you won't take the mick. I'm serious, Ben."

"I won't," Ben tells him, honest, lifting a hand to his own chest. "Hand on my heart, if you're worried about it, I promise I won't be a prat."

It's a relief, hearing those words come out of Ben's mouth. Callum forgets how lucky he is sometimes. Even when Ben's driving him up the wall, or making his job difficult, there's not a thing he'd change about the man. He adores him.

"I mean, it ain't like I'm the best at presents myself, is it?" Ben reasons, lips pulling down at the corners as he raises his brows, an awkward grimace at the memory of his own failings. "I got you tongs for Christmas."

Callum's lips curl into a smile at the memory, "Well, I was a trained chef. It makes sense."

"They fell apart after a day, Cal," Ben recalls, eyes crinkling at the corners as he chuckles. "I mean, whatever it is, it can't be as bad as that."

"It's just..." Callum's eyes drops to their entwined fingers, where Ben's thumb is brushing the back of his knuckles. Callum exhales. "It's different. You'll understand what I mean if I show you."

"Then show me," Ben says, like it's the easiest thing in the world. 

And maybe it is?

Callum meets Ben's soft, blue eyes, and it's all he needs to feel like he can take on the world. He nods, slowly at first, before squeezing Ben's hand, "Alright. Give me a bit to get it ready."

x

A little over twenty minutes pass, and Ben's sitting outside their bedroom door on the landing, scrolling through his phone, slowly growing more and more impatient.

Finally, Callum's voice calls from the other side of the door, "It's ready."

Ben, legs a little wobbly from sitting on the hard floor, stands up, tucking his phone into the back pocket of his jeans as he turns to the door.

Callum doesn't realise just how nervous he'd been until he sees the door handle turn, a sudden flood of fear washing over him as Ben steps into the room.

"About time, my arse is falling asle--" Ben literally stops mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he takes in the image of Callum standing on the opposite side of the room. Lips parting, a small breath of air leaves him. "Jesus, Cal."

The reaction does nothing to ease the anxiety bubbling away in Callum's chest. He tugs nervously at the hem of the skirt, trying to cover himself up as his gaze drops to the floor, voice quiet, "I knew it was a daft idea."

All the blood that had diverted south returns to Ben's distracted brain, eyes moving back up to Callum's embarrassed face. The realisation that Callum thinks he doesn't like it dawns on him, and he steps further into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Babe, no," Ben protests Callum's sadness, crossing the room. Cupping Callum's cheeks, he tilts his face up to meet his eye. "I'm not upset, Cal. I swear."

The fear melts away from Callum at the reassurance, Ben's soft, blue eyes a comfort, the warmth of him letting him know it's okay.

"It's just a bit of a shock," Ben says, before tracking back on his words. "Well, not a shock. A surprise. Not a bad one, though, I promise." 

Exhaling, Callum's furrowed brow relaxes, his hands lifting to rest on Ben's hips, "You don't think it's weird?"

"God no," Ben doesn't mean for the words to come out so breathily, but they do, and it sends a shiver down Callum's spine. His eyes drag down Callum's body, taking in the way the skirt sits against his waist and stops a few inches above the knee. Tongue darting across his lips, he looks back up to Callum's face. "I might have some questions, but I think they can wait."

The suggestive tone of his voice stirs something inside of Callum, pink cheeks flushing hot as he whispers, "Oh..."

Not so subtly, Ben slides a finger under the waistband of the skirt, the material soft under his skin. Leaning up on the balls of his feet, his lips brush against the corner of Callum's mouth, teasing at first, breath hot on his skin.

Callum's eyelashes flutter shut when Ben kisses him properly, all of the remaining anxiety inside of him melting away completely as he sinks into his fiance's touch. Callum can certainly take control when he wants to, but tonight it feels like it's Ben's turn to take the reigns again. 

And so Ben does, guiding Callum over to their bed, their mouths still connected as he pushes him down onto the mattress, kneeling over him as he lays back on his elbows.

The skirt shifts over Callum's thighs with the movement, and Ben takes the opportunity to press his palms against the firm, thick muscle.

There are a lot of things about Callum that drive Ben crazy, and his thighs had always been one of them, ever since he clapped eyes on him in those tight jeans on the square. Ever since they'd started going out, he'd taken every opportunity to get his hands on them. 

Ben isn't expecting the moan that leaves Callum when he presses his fingertips a little higher, nor is he expecting to feel the familiar hardness between his thighs, bare and eager, standing to attention already.

"Cal?" Ben breathes out, pulling back from Callum's mouth. He blinks at his fiancé, pupils blown in the dim light of their room. "Are you going commando?"

Callum's already burning cheeks flush hotter at Ben's words as he nods, tongue darting across his pink, lower lip, "Yeah. My boxers were showing under the skirt. Thought it'd look better without them."

"God," Ben's lips curl into a sly smirk, nose scrunching up slightly as he squeezes Callum's thighs. "Do you know how sexy you are?"

"Yeah," Callum laughs, his arms linking around Ben's shoulders as he grins up at him. "You tell me quite a lot. Bit desperate if you ask me."

Ben kisses Callum again, pressing down against him until he's fully on his back as Ben straddles him, one hand up his skirt, fingers wrapped around his arousal.

Callum moans again, neck lulling back as Ben's thumb and the material of his skirt brushes against the head of his dick. Ben, ever the opportunist, takes the moment to press his mouth to Callum's neck, another part of his body he can't seem to get enough of.

"God, I feel like a right selfish git," Callum says after a while of Ben's fingers wrapped around him, teasing him and leaving his toes curling in his knee high socks. 

His whole body is almost uncomfortably hot with how many layers they're both still wearing, but it seems to make the whole thing just more exciting. It reminds him of the first time they got off together, in their clothes in the park. "I ain't even touched you yet."

"Oh..." Ben, who's been rocking his hips down against one of Callum's thighs for a while now, lifts his mouth from Callum's collarbone, lips curling into a grin. "Don't you worry about that. I've got plans."

"Oh?" Callum's eyes grow a little wider as he sits up on his elbows. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, looking up from under his lashes, suddenly a little flustered. "I know we usually talk about it beforehand, but I got... prepared earlier. Just in case you wanted to..."

Ben knows what he means immediately, but it still short circuits his brain a little. They've always been spontaneous with their sex life, but going _'all the way'_ as Callum liked to call it, took planning, and Callum liked it to be as clean as possible. 

Ben was more used to it, having experience in the past, but with Callum it'd taken a while to adjust. Now, though, he's done it enough to know just how much he likes it, and the pre-notions of stereotypical roles had shifted, and Callum had come to found that more often than not, he enjoyed being the one on the receiving end when they did have time to _'go all the way'_.

Still, they usually give each other a day's notice, so Callum springing it on him knocks Ben off kilter a little, in a good way.

"God, I could marry ya," Ben practically purrs, grinning as captures Callum's mouth in another kiss. He speaks between firm, excited kisses, one hand on the back of Callum's neck, the other stroking across the spattering of hair on the inside of his thigh. "I mean, I am gonna marry ya, but y'know."

Craning up, Callum laughs into Ben's kiss, his hands flittering across Ben's broad back. He'd taken his shirt off a while ago, discarded it to the floor. Callum loves every inch of Ben, but he particularly loves the feeling of his belly, especially when it squishes up against him when he's inside of him, when Callum's thighs are wrapped around Ben's hips.

The thought that he's going to experience that soon sends a prickle of heat to his cock, and Ben realises that he must be growing impatient, because Callum's fingers are pressing harder into the meat of his back.

Ben's fingers get to work on his belt, sliding it out of the loops as he sits up, breaking away from Callum's mouth. He notices, mid unbuttoning of his jeans, that Callum's own hands are moving to his skirt, presumably to remove it, and he moves his hand out, fingers gripping Callum's wrist firmly.

Callum's eyes widen a little as he meets Ben's hot gaze, the sight of it almost knocking the wind out of him, pulse quickening in his wrist under Ben's touch.

"Keep it on," Ben says, mostly encouraging as to not seem pushy, but firm enough to get Callum's blood pumping.

It must work, because Callum nods, lips parted as he drops his hands to the mattress.

x

"God," Callum thinks he'll never grow tired of this, the hot weight of Ben pressing into him, his fingers pressing into his thighs. 

When Callum had said he'd prepared himself, Ben had thought he meant he'd only popped to the chemist for a fleet, not that he'd actually stretched himself out as well. Probably why he'd taken so long getting ready.

Ben had been a little jealous at first, missing out on preparing Callum himself, but then he'd thought about how Callum had been in their room, trying to keep quiet as he pressed his fingers inside himself, and it just made his cock twitch to even fuller attention.

"So good, Cal," Ben groans, rocking his hips down. He's spent a lot of his life building a reputation up as a chaotic power bottom, but this, this is where he feels most at home. Not that he doesn't fancy the idea of Callum wearing a skirt whilst he rides him in the future. 

It should be embarrassing, how quickly it takes Callum to come undone, but the way Ben keeps hitting the perfect spot inside of him, and the friction of the skirt across his aching, cock, leaking with pre-cum, would send anyone over the edge.

Callum just keeps moaning Ben's name, thighs squeezing tight around his hips, the heel of his foot digging into his back. He's sure to leave marks on his skin from the socks, but it'll just be a nice reminder, like the love bites Callum has to cover up with buttoned up collars at times.

Ben knows how close Callum is, can read him like a book by now, so he lets him last a little longer by not touching him for a bit. 

It's excruciating for Callum, though, who groans and digs his fingernails a little deeper into Ben's back, another reminder.

Ben quickly realises that he's on his own way to arriving at his destination a little soon, the tight heat of Callum around him, and the whole events of the evening proving to be overwhelming.

Fingers wrapping back around Callum's length, Ben's lips brush against the shell of his ear, whispering encouraging words of praise, "Love you so much, Cal."

Callum's lashes flutter against his cheeks, heat flooding through him as he comes undone, heels digging into Ben's back, groaning out his name. He feels the sticky heat, spilling over Ben's knuckles, and across his stomach, some of it hitting his thighs.

It takes a moment for Callum to get his bearings, still riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm, but when he does, he kisses Ben, hard and fast, fingers clutching at his cheeks.

"Iloveyou," Callum blurts out between kisses, feeling the skirt around his sweat slick waist shift and move as he circles his hips down, onto the weight of Ben's cock. It's overstimulating, but he wants it all. "Please, Ben. Want you-- please. Come in me, Ben, please."

It's rare for Callum to talk so crassly, but every time he does, it drives Ben absolutely wild, and it's the final nail in his coffin of going over the edge.

The noise that leaves Ben is not at all graceful, but it's muffled by Callum's own moan and the press of his mouth as he kisses him, desperate and with all the passion of a man that's found the love of his life.

The hot flood of Ben's come inside of of him is almost enough to arouse something out of Callum's soft dick, but the sweat pooling at the back of his neck and the burn of lactic acid in his legs is a sign that maybe they should ease up for now.

x

"You ain't asleep, are you?" Callum asks, the smell of shower gel following him as he closes their bedroom door, bare feet padding across the carpet.

Ben, laying on his back with his forearm slung across his eyes, feels the mattress dip beneath Callum's weight, and he can tell he's sitting on the edge, avoiding the sweat and other bodily fluids on the sheets. 

He grins, sitting up in his boxers, the scent of sex and sweat still on his skin. If he had it his way, he'd fall asleep straight after sex, but Callum needs the sheets and bed to be clean. Leftover habits from his days in the army. It just takes Ben a little while for his brain to catch up with him post-orgasm. It turns him into a lazy mess.

"Why, you looking for round two?" Ben teases, though he doesn't really mean it. He's far too tired. He kind of wishes he'd jumped into the shower with Callum and let him wash his hair for him. He likes the feeling of Callum's fingers on his head, plus he can't really be bothered.

Callum chuckles, nose crinkling as he shakes his head, his damp hair sticking to his forehead in a way that fills Ben's chest with warmth, "You said you had questions? About the whole skirt thing."

"Oh," Ben responds, almost forgetting that he'd said that before everything. He nods, crawls across the bed and sits next to Callum, takes his hand in his own. "I mean, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought we should be open, y'know? I mean, as much as I loved it, it was a bit out of the blue."

Exhaling, Callum nods. He strokes a thumb across the back of Ben's hand, meets his warm gaze, "Yeah. I mean, it ain't exactly out of the blue for me, but it must have been a bit weird for you. I mean, I'd probably have questions if it was you."

"I don't have the legs for it," Ben says, reaching over to squeeze Callum's bare knee, teasing.

Chuckling, Callum shakes his head. He sighs, looks down at their conjoined hands before meeting Ben's soft, loving gaze. It's all the reassurance he needs that he's safe with him. That he can tell him anything.

"It was a joke at first," he explains. "Well, I didn't find it that funny, but Rainie and Stuart got a proper laugh out of it."

Ben blinks, almost double taking, "I'm sorry, why did your brother and his missus see you in a skirt, exactly?"

"It was a dress," Callum says simply, like it's the most casual thing in the world. And maybe it is? "I lost a darts game and the loser had to wear this maid outfit, not that it'd even fit Stuart..."

Ben pulls a slightly uneasy face at the thought of Stuart in anything resembling a maid outfit. The thought isn't exactly a pleasant one for him.

"And I thought I'd be embarrassed," Callum continues. "And I was, a bit, when people were laughing, but when I first put it on, it just felt... nice. Like when you get a nice haircut or buy a new coat. It weren't like some life changing event where I questioned everything, it just made me feel nice."

Ben nods, understanding what he means. He'd always felt a bit dorky in glasses, although Callum would disagree and tell him he looks handsome either way. He just feels more confident in contacts. 

"So it's just about wearing summat comfortable?" Ben suggests, squeezing Callum's fingers, reassuring him that it's alright, that he's not judging him.

"Yeah, and I don't know why people make such a big deal out of it," Callum shrugs. "I mean, it ain't like people find it weird when women wear trousers. They're just clothes. It shouldn't really matter who's wearing them, should it?"

"So you ain't gonna be doing any drag shows at The Albert anytime soon?" Ben's mostly joking, but there's some genuine curiosity there. He isn't sure about these kinds of things, really. He's proud of being gay, he just isn't 100% in the know about everything surrounding the extended culture. "Like, it ain't like a persona thing?"

"Well, I ain't auditioning for Drag Race UK, no," Callum reasons. "Don't think I could hack all that contouring."

Callum is joking, but Ben has a serious look on his face. Callum drops the jokey front, brows furrowing with concern as he squeezes Ben's fingers.

"I'm only asking because..." Ben inhales, the memory of Paul a bittersweet feeling in his chest. He's mostly healed, but you never really get over the loss of your first love. He supposes Callum shares that sentiment with Chris. "You know, Pam, Paul's gran? Well, her husband Les was a crossdresser. He had this whole other persona, like with a different name and everything, but it weren't like a drag act or summat. I don't know what it was, to be honest."

Callum's brows raise slightly at the newfound information. He'd heard a little bit about Les from Jay and Pam when she'd visited, but he didn't know much about him. He nods, slowly, "Well, it ain't anything like that. I don't have a persona, and I don't want to be a woman or anything. I'm pretty happy being a bloke."

Ben exhales, relieved. That certainly would have thrown a spanner in to things. He smiles, "Well, that saves me a lot of hassle. Don't need you coming out again and splitting up another engagement."

Callum shakes his head, letting out an exasperated laugh. He reaches out, presses a hand to the back of Ben's neck, squeezes it gently as he speaks, "Don't worry about that, Ben Mitchell. I'll be walking down the aisle with you, suited and booted."

Ben smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. He leans against Callum's shoulder, wraps his arm around him as a moment of silence passes between the both of them, savouring each other's touch and warmth.

"So, my fiancé, Callum Highway," Ben breaks the silence, peering up at Callum from beneath his lashes. "A gay copper who sometimes wears skirts, engaged to a convicted manslaughterer and petty criminal. The skirt thing ain't really the weird part when you think about it."

Callum snorts out a laugh, wrapping his arm around Ben, squeezing him tight as he presses a kiss to his temple. He screws his face up a little in mock disgust, Ben's skin salty under his lips, "Oh, apparently I'm engaged to a lazy git as well. Go on, get in that shower."

Ben chuckles as Callum playfully shoves him away, standing on his feet. He grabs Callum by the cheeks, presses a big kiss square on his lips before pulling away, "You love it!"

x

"How about The Albert?" Ben suggests, watching as Callum gels his hair in the bathroom mirror. "Nobody'll bat an eyelash in there."

Callum pauses mid-comb, brows furrowing as he considers it, "I suppose. I'm more worried about the walk there, though. What if someone says summat?"

"Then they'll have me to answer to," Ben smiles, wrapping his arms around Callum from behind and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. He rests his chin there, gazes at their reflections. "If they get rowdy, you can always arrest them for a hate crime. Would love to see some homophobes getting taken in by a copper in a skirt."

Callum chuckles, turning around to face Ben, his arms circling the shorter man's shoulders. He presses a kiss to Ben's forehead before pulling back and gazing down at him, eyes soft, "How d'you always make me feel like I can take on the world?"

Ben's face softens at the words, chest blooming with warmth, "God, you're a soppy git."

Callum's lips curl into a smile before bridging the gap between them.

**Author's Note:**

> woke brain writing this: clothes dont have gender men can wear feminine things
> 
> unwoke brain writing this: callums thighs big sexy


End file.
